Books" - Snell Smiled - "are A

Death, I Had Discovered Long Ago, Was Available In Varying Flavors, And None Of Them Particularly Palatable.

We Were Developing A Machine That Used Egg White, Heat And Sugar To Synthesize Methanol When A Power Surge Caused An Implosion. Owens Was Meringued. By The Time We Chipped Him Out The Poor Chap Had Expired.

The Best Plans Are Always The Simplest.

Once Upon A Midnight Dreary, While I Pondered Weak And Weary, O’er A Plan To Venge Myself Upon That Cursed Thursday Next- This Eyre Affair, So Surprising, Gives My Soul Such Loath Despising, Here I Plot My Temper Rising, Rising From My Jail Of Text. “get Me Out!” I Said, Advising, “pluck Me From This Jail Of Text- Or I Swear I’ll Wring Your Neck!

A Surfeit Of Information Often Hides An Untruth,” He Said, With Annoying Clarity.